


Scars To Your Beautiful

by redskiez



Series: Tumblr Prompts [11]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Scars, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 16:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15199037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redskiez/pseuds/redskiez
Summary: Obito never thought he'd see his own face staring back at him - especially not after he put on the mask.





	Scars To Your Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XxikurumixX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxikurumixX/gifts).



> This is beta'd by Dani__ATN.
> 
> xxikurumixx said:  
> Maybe one based on the Soulmate AU that you shares all scars with them?

Obito can’t believe his eyes.

For years he had spent every night staring blankly into the ceiling, his mind replaying the exact moment he held Rin’s lifeless body in his arms. He had been convinced that his soulmate was dead.

If he noticed that she did not sport the scars he had gotten from the war, he blamed it on her being dead, despite knowing, deep down, that she had been alive when Madara saved his life.

His mind hasn’t been functioning properly for the past near-twenty years. He had been hinged on world domination because the world took something important from him – something that cannot be replaced – so he was convinced that he should do the same in return. Is that not what they call karma?

But his eyes must be deceiving him now because, as Pain hands over a spare robe and utters orders that he has heard many times, he sees someone who sports the same scars as him.

The man’s scars are pronounced in the light of the setting sun, the deep amber rays casting heavy shadows from every fold.

That is someone who is, according to this sick game the world decided to play, supposed to be his other half.

That is not true. She is dead. His other half is dead. The world took her away from him. There is no way that there has been a mistake – there is no way that he had made a mistake.

For too many years he had lived under this plan. He had put too much time and energy into it. There is no way he is wrong.

Rin’s smiling face flashes before his eyes and his heart aches. No, he cannot be wrong. This person must be the love of someone else, someone else who suffered a similar fate to his and lived to tell the tale.

Still, Obito stands in the shadows, watching as the new recruit say something that he does not bother to hear. He watches as he picks up a kunai and drags it across the metal of his forehead protector, scraping and ruining the symbol of Iwagakure.

Iwagakure, the village that has doomed him and put him in this situation in the first place.

A coincidence. Yes, it is a coincidence and nothing more.

Obito turns and leaves the area, morphing the space around him and disappearing into the darkness just as the new recruit swings the cloak in a dramatic arc over his shoulders.

It has to be a coincidence. He cannot let it be anything else. Rin was the love of his life. She had to be.

* * *

The next time he hears about the new recruit – he is determinate not to learn his name, despite Nagato having probably told him in previous meetings – he is on a mission with Sasori, his new partner.

Obito would comment that it is a wonderful pair, a match made in heaven if it’s not for the fact that Sasori does not sport any scars. He is a spotless man. In fact, he is not a man at all.

Obito doubts that Sasori is destined to be with anyone at all.

Something tugs within him and Obito is tempted to go visit the artistic duo, wanting to know how they get along. Maybe Deidara, since he’s still young, is the chatty kind. Maybe he would talk about his scars.

He slaps himself mentally for even thinking of visiting them.

Zetsu looks up from his position at the surgery table, putting down the scalpel he was holding.

“What’s wrong, Tobi?” White Zetsu asks, his unique and slightly raspy voice echoing in the large, empty room.

Obito looks up from his notebook – something that Orochimaru left behind – and stares at his accomplice, unsure what to say.

“I want to join the Akatsuki as a new member,” Obito decides to say.

“You want to go out of the shadows?” Black Zetsu asks.

“Yes,” Obito says.

“You can take Orochimaru’s place,” White Zetsu says, “and we can be partners.”

“No,” Obito finds himself saying before he can even process his own thoughts. “I want to be the new recruit’s partner.”

Zetsu is quiet. He knows why.

“But Sasori is still alive,” White Zetsu says.

Obito furrows his eyebrows.

“We will see about that,” he says and then he gets up and leaves.

* * *

Nagato blinks at him, confused.

“But why take Sasori’s place when you can take Orochimaru’s?”

The Uzumaki tries his patience. Obito crosses his arms.

“It is best to act as though I am not competent enough,” he says.

“But Orochimaru’s ring remains unoccupied. I know that he took it with him, but we can order a new one to be made.”

“No, I want you to act as though you will consider placing me in his spot until Sasori dies.”

“Why are you so adamant that Sasori will die? He is a capable shinobi—”

Obito lets Nagato see his eye. Konan takes a step closer to Nagato’s stand. Nagato relents.

* * *

Yes, why is he so adamant that he must take Sasori’s place? He can still befriend the new recruit on the grounds of being a fellow, newly appointed Akatsuki member.

Yes, that is a possible route that he can take.

Where is he?

He looks around, suddenly realizing that he is not in his own hideout. Obito stands crouched on a branch in the thickest part of a forest. He glances up at the sky and the stars’ formation tells him that he’s somewhere in the Land of Fire, facing the border that will mark the beginning of the Land of Wind.

“Five minutes,” he hears a low, deep rumble for a voice coming from below him.

Obito looks down to find Sasori, setting fire to some kindle.

“Selfish,” he hears the new recruit shoot back and then retreats quickly to avoid Sasori’s tail attack. The recruit sticks his tongue out at his partner – childish – and then climbs onto a low-hanging branch, settling in.

Obito watches as Sasori turns and heads off somewhere.

He leaps from his branch to one that is closer to the new recruit. He lands silently, his scarf fluttering behind him, and he just watches.

On that pretty man’s face, a face framed with golden strands that can rival the glow of the morning sun, lay familiar-looking scars, covering the entirety of the right side of his face.

Obito wants to get closer. He remains where he is to listen out for the man’s breathing patterns. They’re deeper and slower now. He is asleep.

Obito risks it. He flickers and reappears on the tree’s bark, focusing chakra to the bottom of his feet. He looks at him curiously; knowing that underneath the growing fringe is unmarked skin. Why has he chosen to hide that part of his face?

Unknowingly, Obito reaches out and touches one of the grooves on the guy’s right cheek.

A chill goes down his spine.

He repeats the motion until he reaches the guy’s lip, knowing that it is the exact same one on his lip.

Obito stares at his mouth for a long time, the light from the fire making it look impossibly soft.

He hears Sasori return.

Obito disappears.

* * *

The new guy notices him standing off in the distance.

When it occurs to him that he should disappear, the kid is already popping the question to Zetsu.

“What the hell is that guy’s deal, yeah?”

Rather rude, he would say — but he doesn’t because even Sasori is looking at him. Judging by the position he is setting his puppet, Obito knows he’s going to be in a lot of trouble if he doesn’t act soon.

He leaps down from his tree and waves his hand maniacally.

“Hi!” he says, voice cheery, high, utterly fake but undeniably joyous. He practiced this voice for a long time, modeling the persona after the idiotic White Zetsu who kept him company for those dreaded years. “My name is Tobi and I am Zetsu’s apprentice! It is very nice to meet you.”

“What are you doing here?” Sasori questions.

“Ah,” White Zetsu speaks up, sticking out a hand to prevent Sasori from stepping forward. “He is training under my wing to join the Akatsuki as a new member. He’s not ready yet.”

Sasori stands down.

The new recruit watches him curiously, a lone blue eye glimmering in the sunlight. He’s wearing a scope. Obito wonders  _why_.

“Why do you wear a mask, hm?” he hears him ask, startling him with his voice.

“Because I don’t want people to see my face,” Tobi says happily.

“Why not?”

Obito needs to be careful. The kid is observant. If it isn’t for those scars on his face, Obito would have welcomed his intelligence.

“Because I don’t want people to see my face,” Tobi says.

“You didn’t answer my question, yeah,” the kid says. “Why don’t you want people to see your face?”

“I don’t know,” Tobi shrugs. “I don’t like my face, I guess.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t,” Tobi pouts. “Oh, you’re scaring me! Why are you asking so many questions? Mr. Zetsu, is this okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Black Zetsu says.

The recruit clicks his tongue. Tobi jumps, startled.

“Help! Help! He’s planning something, Mr. Zetsu!”

“Tobi,” White Zetsu says, sounding concerned but Obito knows it is not directing at him. “Don’t bother Deidara. Be a good boy and come here.”

Deidara.

Obito hates that name. The name that belongs to a man who carries his face — a face that should be dead to the world.

Why did he listen?

Tobi stands quietly beside Zetsu. With the help of his mask, he spies Deidara discreetly. Deidara is heading back toward the rock he had stood up from and leans against it, digging a hand into something hidden inside his cloak.

He catches himself wondering what it is.

He forces himself to watch passively. Deidara takes his hand out of his cloak and palms at the thing he took out, digging his fingers expertly and moving with absolute purpose.

Obito doesn’t care what he’s doing. He doesn’t.

He moves on to other things. Deidara’s cloak seems two sizes too big for him. His hair done up in a loose and half-hearted ponytail that sits on top of his head.

His face…

Well. His face.

How does he so carelessly walk around with that thing? Is he not ashamed or even disgusted at himself every time he stands in front of the mirror? That is a dead man’s face.

He doesn’t think about how Deidara doesn’t know Obito should be dead.

Sasori gives the last of the reports to Zetsu and Zetsu hands him a file. Sasori gratefully accepts it and turns to look at Tobi.

“Are you good to be a spy?”

He barely registers that Sasori is talking to him. He tilts his head in genuine confusion until Sasori’s words sink in.

“Oh, no,” Tobi shakes his head. “I am not good at anything yet. I’m a rookie.”

The puppet Sasori inhabits right now carries soulless, dead eyes that unnerve him. They stare at him, seeming as though they are judging him for literally everything he has just said and done — which they probably are if Obito needs to be honest.

“Useless,” Sasori says and then turns around. “Deidara, we are going.”

Deidara silently packs up his things, pocketing whatever it is that he was fiddling with. Obito pretends to not notice that Deidara is staring right at him — right at his mask.

* * *

“Why are you always hanging around us, hm?”

Obito looks up, unsure why he’s standing out in the open. Zetsu isn’t even here so he can’t use him as an excuse.

Tobi shrugs. “I just want to learn from you guys.”

“Staring at us isn’t going to teach you anything,” Deidara says, crossing his arms.

Tobi pretends to not have heard Deidara’s words. “Why is your face all messed up?”

Deidara glares at him. “That’s really none of your business, hm. It’s very rude to just say that.”

“Sorry,” Tobi says, shrugging. “I just wanted to know.”

“My face isn’t messed up,” Deidara says, visible eye narrowing. “I had this ever since I was born, hm.”

“A birth defect?” Tobi wonders.

“No,” Deidara says. “Go away, Tobi.”

“Why?”

“Master Sasori doesn’t like it when you hang around. He thinks you’re stealing information, hm.”

“I’m not a good spy,” Tobi argues.

Deidara lets out a dry laugh. “I know you’re not, hm.”

Tobi tilts his head.

“You’re too innocent to have the thought to spy on others and steal information, hm,” Deidara shrugs.

Obito blinks.

“What are you doing now?” Tobi asks.

“I’m waiting for Master Sasori to be done collecting information from his spies, hm,” Deidara says.

Information on the current situation of the Jinchuuriki of the One-Tail, Obito knows. Reformed, the kid is even more vulnerable. With Sasori’s help, they have reliable spies situated right in the village. They can just walk in without alerting anyone.

“Sasori must be really knowledgeable,” Tobi says idly.

“Sure,” Deidara says, disdain clear in his voice. “He’s got a lot of spies working for him, hm, but he’ll never know the true meaning of art.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the beauty of things that are fleeting, of course, yeah. When things last for mere moments and then disappear with nothing but memories being left behind, that’s beautiful, hm.”

“No, what’s art?”

Deidara glares at him. He sees the corner of his mouth twitch and his fists clench. There is a divot at the corner of his brows and Obito finds it annoyingly adorable. If his heart is a person, he would have killed it a long time ago.

Deidara takes a deep breath, lips parting and Tobi gets ready for a scolding or something worse when Sasori suddenly crawls into view.

“You again,” Sasori says.

“Hello, Sasori,” Tobi says cheerily. Obito hates the man’s guts.

“Shut up,” Sasori says and then he turns to Deidara. “Come on, brat, we’re going. I’m behind schedule already.”

Obito rolls his eyes. Sasori’s scheduled to meet Pain in half an hour.

“Bye-bye,” Tobi gives the two a little wave, doing a little dance in the progress.

“This isn’t over, you knucklehead, hm,” Deidara turns to him and says, waving an accusing finger at his mask.

“Oki-doki,” Tobi says.

It will be over soon.

* * *

“Put them in charge of picking up the One-Tail,” Obito says to Nagato.

Nagato presses his lips into a thin line and Obito can see the displeasure in his eyes. Obito doesn’t budge.

“Sasori’s spies are more prone to recognizing their own ringmaster,” Obito says.

Nagato’s displeasure lessens.

“He knows the village. He will know where the Kazekage’s office will be. The new recruit will have a straight shot.”

Nagato nods. “I guess,” he says, mumbling. “I’ll think about it. We don’t need to be aggressive right now.”

“Don’t dally,” Obito says and then he disappears.

He appears back at his own hideout and Zetsu waits patiently for him.

“What did you do?” Black Zetsu rasps.

“God’s work,” Obito replies sarcastically.

“Do you think he’s your soulmate?” White Zetsu asks.

Obito ignores him and heads to the lab. Zetsu follows him.

“You’re wasting a good resource for your stupid experiment,” Black Zetsu says. “Your desire to undermine Deidara is not going to work.”

“You’re not even a real person,” Obito says.

“That’s mean,” White Zetsu whines.

“Sasori’s spies have done nothing but benefit the organization,” Black Zetsu continues as though neither of them has spoken.

“Sasori’s spies will be dead by the time this mission is over,” Obito replies. “Besides, spies go both ways. The longer they remain, the more knowledge they gather, the more dangerous they become. How many spies have you butchered under Sasori’s orders?”

“Too many,” White Zetsu says, crooning.

“Enough to implant fear in his other spies so that they will not betray him,” Black Zetsu says.

“We’ve survived without Sasori’s resources before,” Obito says, “and we can definitely do it again.”

“Yay!” White Zetsu smiles. “I can be useful again.”

“Think about this,” Black Zetsu says. “We cannot delay the plan any longer.”

Obito dismisses Zetsu and reaches for a jar.

* * *

Sasori’s death is the most unfortunate one.

He deactivates his genjutsu the moment he sees that Sasori has nowhere to run to, his only remaining human feature being pierced by two swords. His death is ironic and Obito can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle.

He feigns ignorance when Zetsu talks about it and suggests that they go retrieve his body and ring. Although Black Zetsu sports the same expression as he always does — an expressionless face, of course — Obito knows that he is suspecting something.

He couldn’t find it in himself to particularly care.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Black Zetsu says when he fishes the ring out of the crack.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tobi shrugs.

“Do not play dumb with me,” Black Zetsu says.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Zetsu,” Tobi says again and then he hurries out of the cave. “Come on, I heard you said Deidara had a hard time with the Nine-Tails brat, too.”

“I heard he died,” White Zetsu comments idly.

He hasn’t. Obito can feel it.

Half of him wishes he has. The other half yearns for affection. He rather himself be completely mute.

The arm lays in the grass peacefully and Obito feels as though his own arm is burning, particularly around the elbow. He tries to ignore the image of the flesh in his own pocket dimension.

Tobi leans down to pick up the limb, marveling in its existence and acting as though he does not know of Deidara’s survival.

When Deidara appears behind them, angry and annoyed, Obito feels the same flame lick at his stomach. The feeling is mutual, he tells himself, tossing the arm back on the ground with more force than necessary. It might also make his own arm feel strange, but he does not care. He cannot care.

His own face greets him, the face that he has tried so desperately to wipe from existence reappearing from the depths of his own past. He hates it. He hates everything about this. He hates Deidara.

Still, with his mind determined to affix this emotion on to an innocent man, there is a nagging feeling tugging at him at every waking moment. He tries to silence it but the feeling remains.

He needs to cut the problem at the stem.

* * *

Tobi watches as Kakuzu swaps one arm with the next, raising it into the light as though it would help at all.

“This one is the closest I can get,” Kakuzu says after a while, lowering both of his arms. “She matches your blood type and size.”

“Fine, hm,” Deidara says and raises his stump of an arm for Kakuzu to start the stitching.

“A woman’s arm for a woman’s body,” Hidan snickers in the background.

“That’s not very nice, Mr. Hidan,” Tobi marvels.

“Shut up, Tobi, hm,” Deidara says at the same time Hidan says, “I am not nice.”

Obito can feel every pinch of Kakuzu’s threads. There is no doubt about it.

As though he can doubt anything in the first place, with all those scars marring the beauty of Deidara’s original appearance. He hates himself for it, for both his own idiocy and thinking Deidara must be originally beautiful.

Why, it is Deidara’s people who put him here in the first place. If not for Deidara’s people, Obito thinks, Deidara would not look like this.

Deidara was barely two-years-old when Obito got trapped under the boulder.

A strange sense of guilt wells in his heart. He ignores it.

“So, little Deidara, are you going to tell us anything about this?” Hidan asks, gesturing to his own face. “Maybe you can copy Tobi and wear a mask all the time.”

“Shut up, Hidan,” Deidara says, snarling when Kakuzu jostles him.

“Don’t move,” the old man rumbles, strangely-colored eyes glaring at him.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Hidan shrugs. “If you’re going to lug around that face, maybe you should consider others’ feelings and hide it. Kakuzu, the bastard, always tells me that my stitches are ugly as fuck.”

“Because they are,” Kakuzu says. “Stop talking as though I am not here.”

“Did you hear that? Sounds like we’ve got flies in here,” Hidan snickers.

Tobi can see that Kakuzu is barely restraining himself.

“Anyway, what about you, Tobi? You hiding your face because you got shit scars too?” Hidan asks.

“I just don’t want others to see my face.”

“Yeah, he’s got shit scars,” Hidan says. “Man, I feel bad for your supposed soulmates, you know? Ugly ass scars all over you guys’ faces. They must be suffering out there. Imagine being bullied over scars that you didn’t even do anything to get! Shameful, I say. I would wear my scars proudly if they didn’t heal — proof of my devotion to Lord Jashin! The best display of loyalty, I’d say.”

“How do you stand him, yeah?” Deidara asks.

“I don’t,” Kakuzu says, already doing his other arm. He replaces the missing elbow — to be honest, Obito can definitely return the bit of flesh to Deidara and Kakuzu, but he doesn’t want to expose himself just so he can have a less obvious scar on his own right arm — with a bit of dead flesh plucked from Zetsu’s limitless supply of bodies and resumes his stitching.

That is definitely going to leave a scar. Even with his replaceable arm, Obito is sure that he will not be able to escape this. Thus is the curse of this strange, strange world.

“Shame,” Deidara says. “I thought I could get some advice, hm.”

“Senpai!” Tobi gasps, acting as though he is offended.

“Kill him,” Kakuzu says.

“As though you can, you old fuck!” Hidan laughs.

“Kill him,” Kakuzu says directly to Deidara and then he stands. “Do not move your arms too much until they are healed. If the stitches come off, I’m expecting to be paid to have them fixed. You’re going to have to get your own arms as a replacement if you lose them.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, old man, hm,” Deidara says, reaching for his cloak. Tobi reaches it first, handing it to him and receives a grunt for his troubles.

Tobi trails after Deidara when he leaves the room, acting like a lost puppy.

“Get lost, Tobi, hm,” Deidara says, trying to open the door to his own room.

“I think senpai would need my help!” Tobi says. Obito doesn’t know why. He reaches out and opens the door for Deidara. Deidara doesn’t say anything and walks inside.

Tobi follows him, looking around Deidara’s room. It looks like any other Akatsuki member’s room except he has a lot more decorations and it is, dare he say, tidier than most, save for Itachi’s.

“Senpai is neat,” Tobi says.

“Don’t mess up anything, hm,” Deidara says. “Come pick up these magazines for me.”

Tobi eagerly hurries over to him, kneeling down to tidy up the toppled pile of magazines. They’re all either about art and sculptures, pottery and craftsmanship, or nature-related documents that are probably published by the Aburame Clan.

“Senpai reads?” Tobi asks.

“Shut the fuck up, Tobi, hm, or you’re going to regret ever being born.”

It’s fun that Obito already does.

“Does Deidara-senpai need me for anything else?”

Deidara grunts out loud when he sits down, crossing his legs and tossing his cloak over the table. He sighs in pain. Obito can feel it.

“Fetch me a bowl of water, hm.”

Tobi happily fulfills his duty, hurrying to the bathroom and grabbing a bowl to fill it with water. While he waits for it to fill, he rolls up his sleeve to check his arm, as though he needs any more confirmation.

There it is. Lines that resemble those on Deidara’s arm, stitches and all. It leaves a bad taste in Obito’s mouth. He thinks he might puke, actually. He rolls down his sleeve and pretends he hasn’t seen anything at all.

He shuts the tap and grabs the bowl, heading out back to the bedroom and placing the bowl on the table. He sits, crossed-legged, at the adjacent corner to Deidara’s, pretending to be completely enthralled by whatever it is that Deidara is doing.

Obito can tell that Deidara is annoyed. He feels a strange sense of giddiness over it.

“Since we are going to be partners now, Deidara-senpai, maybe you can finally tell me about your scars?” Tobi asks as Deidara cleans his stitches. Obito can feel the pressure but not the pain.

“No,” Deidara says, dabbing his stitches carefully with the warm water. “And we are not going to be partners until leader says so, hm.”

Oh, ‘leader’ will have no qualms over this arrangement.

“Well, either way, I think we should get to know each other better!”

“I am not sharing anything with a stranger, hm.”

“Oh, senpai, but we are not strangers! We’ve known each other for three years.”

Deidara gives him a glance, an odd expression on his face. Obito frowns.

“Three years, huh?” Deidara says, putting the towel away once he’s done. He places his left hand on the table. He bites his right thumb and begins to draw a pattern on his palm. Obito doesn’t recognize it but he knows it is the symbol for Iwagakure’s kinjutsu. “Funny, I don’t remember seeing you during my first year in the Akatsuki, hm.”

“I was around,” Tobi says quickly. “Mr. Zetsu just doesn’t allow me to go anywhere near you guys — just in case I got hurt.”

“Ha,” Deidara barks out a humorless laugh and then places his hand in the bowl, grimacing when the jutsu begins to activate. Obito winces. “Why are you so chummy with me, Tobi, hm?”

“Chummy?” Tobi tilts his head. “I am chummy with most people.”

“Sure,” Deidara says. He remains quiet until the mouth on his palm reappears. “If you want me to tell you about my scars, then you’re going to have to tell me about your mask first, hm.”

“My mask?” Tobi gasps. “But there’s nothing to tell, senpai! It’s just a mask.”

“Nothing is just one thing,” Deidara turns to him, massaging his left palm. “There is a reason why you wear that mask and it isn’t just because you don’t want others to see your face, hm. What, you have some deformities like mine?”

The way he says it makes Obito angry. He is accusing him of something, Obito can tell. There is no way he can know.

“Equal trade, Tobi,” Deidara says. “If you don’t tell me about your mask, then you will know nothing about my scars, hm.”

Well, he supposes he can wait. Deidara will have the desire to just talk and not listen sooner or later.

* * *

It is sooner rather than later.

Tobi isn’t particularly nice to Deidara but he supposes it’s the constant presence and vocal support that really brought Deidara around.

He sits, with his hands folded in front of him, as he watches Deidara twirl his cup of tea. They aren’t in a hurry, which really is something new for a change, so Obito allows this idle chitchat to gradually turn into something else.

“I had them for as long as I can remember,” Deidara is saying and Obito remembers that he should pay attention, lest Deidara suspect Tobi isn’t really interested.

“My parents said I wasn’t born with them so at first, I thought it was some accident I had, hm,” he says, bringing his cup to his lips but he doesn’t take a sip. “But then they said they just appeared one night when they came home after patrol. That’s why I think they’re my soulmate’s, yeah. Whomever the hell the bastard might be, I pity ‘em. Must be tough on them after an accident like that, yeah.”

Obito remains quiet.

“Did you get bullied for it, like Hidan said?” Tobi asks.

“Hm,” Deidara hums, taking a sip of his drink. It seems like he’s done talking.

“Your turn, hm,” Deidara says.

“Nuh-uh,” Tobi shakes his head. “I didn’t ask senpai to talk, you just talked on your own.”

“Bastard,” Deidara shakes his head. “You were the one who was insistent upon sharing stories a couple of weeks ago, hm.”

Tobi shrugs. He’s heard enough.

It’s funny that he can screw someone else’s life up without even knowing them.

* * *

“Do you even believe in this sort of stuff, senpai?” Tobi asks, making loud blowing noises at the skewered rabbit.

“Stop that,” Deidara says, waving his hand at Tobi and then eventually managing to snatch the skewer away from him too. “If you want to blow at something, take your stupid mask off, hm.”

Tobi chuckles and says, “sorry.”

Deidara blows at the meat and then hands it back to him.

“So does senpai believe in this sort of stuff?” he says, pointing at his own masked face.

Deidara stares at him over the fire, a deadpan look on his face.

Tobi lets out another awkward laugh.

“I guess so, hm,” Deidara says eventually. “My parents were soulmates. Every wound and scar is shared between them. I guess, as a kid, I wanted that too, hm.”

“Do you still want it?” Tobi asks.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Deidara says, waving his own empty skewer around. “I stopped wanting those kinds of things after I left my village, hm.”

“That’s really depressing, senpai,” Tobi says.

“Not really,” Deidara shrugs. “If I got this during the war, then my soulmate is either dead, in a coma, or can’t even be a shinobi anymore, hm. That’s not someone I want to be with.”

Funny. He lists the three things that Obito would much rather be than what he is now. Obito had wondered, idly, if it would be better if he was dead. Deidara wouldn’t be missing out on anything at all.

“Your turn,” Deidara says. “And don’t say you don’t need to answer this time, hm, because you asked the question.”

Tobi lets out an exasperated sigh, groan and all. “Are you really interested in someone like me, senpai?”

“No, but if you’re interested in hearing stories about my scars, it’s only fair if you give one back, hm,” Deidara says.

“If your soulmate is alive, do you think they will have your scars now?” Tobi asks, pretending not to have heard him.

Deidara looks down at his clothed arms, shrugging. “It works like that, hm,” he says. “I would assume they do.”

“A ruined face for ruined arms, huh?” Tobi says.

Deidara glances at him.

“What do you have against my face, yeah?”

“So, do you think the person who gave you that is the only one meant for you?” Tobi asks.

“Why are you ignoring my questions?” Deidara asks but he doesn’t press any further. He sighs. “It doesn’t matter if they are or not,” he says. “I’m not really sure if I want to meet my soulmate right now, hm.”

“Why?”

“Even if the world says they’re the one meant for me, how would I know if they appreciate my art or not? A lot of people seem to hate it, hm.”

“I don’t hate it,” Tobi says.

“You say that just so you can get in my good graces, yeah?”

“No, senpai,” Tobi says.

Deidara narrows his eyes at him. He nods at the skewer in his hand.

“Are you going to eat that or not, hm?”

“Oh,” Tobi looks down at his hand like he’s just now realizing he’s still holding the skewer. “No. You can have it if you want.”

Tobi hands it over to Deidara.

“What about you, Tobi, hm?” Deidara asks, taking a bite out of the rabbit.

“Hm?”

“The whole ‘only one’ thing.”

“Oh,” Tobi blinks, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I don’t know. I think that you can fall in love with someone else other than your soulmate because with all the people out there, you can’t always be lucky enough to find ‘the one’ this world paired you with.

“I think, in the end, it’s the journey of being in love rather than the person you spend it with.”

Obito is acutely aware of the fact that Deidara is watching him. He ignores the way Deidara gently touches his right cheek.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right, hm.”

* * *

“Did you ever meet them?” Deidara asks as he pulls the kunai out of the shinobi’s neck. A weak leakage of blood comes dribbling out of the dead shinobi’s neck.

Tobi makes a show of saying “ew, that’s gross!” before addressing Deidara’s question.

“I thought I did,” Tobi says, leaning down to snatch the scroll away before blood can taint it. He breaks the seal and unrolls it. “But I’m not sure.”

“Not sure?” Deidara asks, kicking the body away. He walks closer to Tobi, peering over to his side to look at the contents of the scroll.

“Yeah,” Tobi says. He points to the north and the two of them begin to walk. “I thought she was my soulmate, but I think I’m wrong.”

“You think?” Deidara asks but it sounds more like a comment than anything.

“Who replaced my senpai with a parrot?” Tobi wonders loudly.

“Shut up,” Deidara says, slapping his arm. “If you actually answered my questions, then I wouldn’t have to repeat myself, hm.”

“Maybe I don’t want to elaborate, senpai,” Tobi says.

Deidara doesn’t say anything, only casting a side-long glance that Obito only notices because his mask does not betray where he is actually looking.

“Okay,” Deidara says eventually.

Obito knows that he is not okay with it.

* * *

“Never,” Deidara says.

“What, are you saving yourself for your soulmate?” Tobi teases but it leaves Obito with a funny feeling in his stomach.

“Bah,” Deidara says, putting down his flask. “I said I’m not looking for them, hm.”

“Yeah, but are you doing it just in case you stumble upon them while out there?”

Deidara looks at him funny.

“I don’t even know if we’re going to click, hm.”

“Senpai? Soulmates kind of already mean you’ll click naturally.”

Deidara narrows his eyes at him. “You’ve never died before, yeah? Want to try?”

Tobi tilts his head.

“You’re really weird, you know that, hm?”

“I guess,” Tobi says.

“You guess,” Deidara shakes his head. “I worry for your real soulmate, hm.”

“Yeah,” Tobi says. “Me too.”

* * *

“Why do soulmates even exist?”

“Not now, Tobi, hm,” says Deidara, his voice slow and gravely and every bit as sleepy as he is.

“Yeah, but have you ever really thought about it, senpai?” Tobi asks, shifting over to lie on his side. “Why must we be forced to only choose one person when it should be our freedom and right to love whomever we want to?”

“You can still fall in love with someone other than your soulmate, hm,” Deidara says, sounding very annoyed. “I’ve seen it happen, yeah, and it usually never ends well because it was either just a misunderstood fondness or they’re not even compatible, hm.”

Obito grits his teeth but he finds himself annoyed at the truth of his words, rather than at Deidara himself.

“The whole soulmate deal, I think, is for people to not have to worry about these sorts of things and just meet someone that’s perfect for them, hm,” Deidara says. “Guess the whole scar thing would be for lovers to share experiences and pain to bond them.”

It makes too much sense and Obito hates that it does.

“What would you do if you met your soulmate?”

“Don’t know,” Deidara says. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, hm. Now, Tobi, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, senpai.”

* * *

“Why do you insist on art being like that?”

“What?”

“You preach about art being fleeting.”

Deidara breathes out and rests his palms on his knees.

“Haven’t you ever had something taken away from you suddenly, hm? You seem like the type.”

Tobi doesn’t say anything.

“Well, you never really appreciate something until it’s gone, hm. I always thought remembrance is more beautiful than anything else. True art is a feeling, a memory – that’s why it’s indestructible but at the same time fleeting, hm. You don’t always walk around feeling what you felt two years ago, eating your favorite flavor of cake, yeah?

“Nostalgia is a powerful thing. You chase after it again and again because it always slips from your grasp, hm. What better way of creating nostalgia by destroying the thing you always have, or creating a thing you never had? Then you can remember it fondly, yeah.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Tobi says.

“Okay, think about it this way,” Deidara says. “Imagine you found your soulmate and you’re together with them, yeah. I assume you’d be in love with them because the universe said so. True love is fleeting, yeah. You fall in love with them once and then when you wake up the next morning, they’d do something that makes you fall in love all over again, hm.

“That’s what my art – true art – is. You always look for that high, yeah. The high that disappears as soon as you take note of it and the high that makes you want more of when it goes, hm. It’s the best feeling ever.”

“Have you ever felt it before, senpai?”

“No, not really.”

“That makes sense,” Tobi nods. “It’s like a flower, isn’t it? It’s beautiful for only a while and then it wilts. And then you have nothing but the memory of it being beautiful when all that’s left is a rotten pile of petals.

“But then blooming season comes again and you’re surrounded by beauty once more – the cycle just continues.”

Deidara looks back at him, little tongue peeking from between his teeth.

“You know, Tobi, hm,” Deidara says. “You’re not half bad.”

Obito feels as though he is embraced by the same, fiery explosions that Deidara makes. The warmth disappears as soon as he realizes it and he knows this has gone too far.

* * *

Obito touches the water’s surface gently.

No one’s been here in a while.

He turns back and heads deeper into the forest, finding a comfortable spot to sit down. Zetsu appears in front of him.

“We caught wind of the location of the Three-Tails,” White Zetsu says.

“Just down south of here, we should capture it before Kirigakure reclaims it,” Black Zetsu says.

Obito nods, reaching up to take off his mask. He rubs at his eyes, suddenly too tired to even speak.

“Are you okay?” White Zetsu asks.

His age must be catching up to him – that or he’s finally feeling the consequences of every action he’s ever made.

“I’m fine,” Obito says, waving a dismissive hand. “Have Pain assign the mission to us. We’ll get the Three-Tails.”

Black Zetsu’s plain, empty eye focuses on him and, not for the first time, Obito feels unnerved.

“Heads up!” White Zetsu says and then Zetsu disappears.

Obito blinks, confused, and then he hears the trees rustle behind him. He’s too late in reapplying his mask because Deidara is already behind him.

He didn’t sense Deidara’s presence at all. Something akin to dread begins to crawl up Obito’s spine.

“I heard Zetsu…” Deidara begins but then trails off when he realizes something.

Tobi doesn’t even bother turning around to face him.

“Okay,” Deidara says slowly. “So it’s you, hm.”

The air is heavy and so thick that Obito is almost choking on it. Maybe it’s just him because Deidara seems to be breathing just fine. But after a few moments, Deidara remains quiet and Obito begins to fidget.

“Surprise!” Tobi tries.

“Surprise?” Deidara echoes, sounding puzzled. “Tobi…”

Obito stands to move away before Deidara can reach out to touch his shoulder.

He hears Deidara sigh.

“Is this about that girl you mentioned before, hm?”

“I really thought she was the one,” Obito says.

“How are you even alive, yeah?” Deidara marvels.

“What?”

“The scars. The guilt.”

“The cells that Zetsu is made of saved me,” Obito finds himself saying.

“And you’d much rather have died with her, hm,” Deidara helps him finish.

“Sorry,” says Obito.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you, yeah?” Deidara asks, gesturing to his own face.

“Um, because you make it sound like you have no preference of whether you meet me or not.”

“It’s not only that.”

“I hate this,” Obito says, turning to face Deidara and crossing his arms.

Deidara furrows his eyebrows – Obito thinks it’s because he’s thinking but it’s more logical to assume it’s because he’s finally getting to look at him in the face – and then grimaces. “Yeah, me too.”

Obito thinks that’s the end of that but then Deidara steps forward and presses a finger against his chest.

“You wanted to sabotage me,” Deidara says. “You wanted to make a fool out of me – without a clear plan, might I add – to _test_ me or something, hm. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Obito admits. “I guess I just wasn’t willing to admit to myself that I was wrong and I hated that you being here is proof that I am.”

“Idiot,” Deidara says.

Obito feels something warm his heart.

“What was that?” he asks.

“What was what?”

“Did you feel that?”

“Great,” Deidara says. “This is why soulmates never break up, hm.”

Obito tilts his head, confused, as Deidara leans down to pick up his mask. As he admires it, realization slowly creeps on him.

“Oh,” he says.

“Oh, indeed,” Deidara says. “So, now we look alike and we share feelings, hm.”

“You sound mad,” Obito says.

“Of course I am,” Deidara says. “Every kid made fun of me, hm.”

Obito feels bad for laughing.

“Shut up, hm,” Deidara warns.

“Sorry,” Obito says, lifting his arms. Deidara takes the hint and slips into his embrace.

“I hate you,” Deidara says.

“Me too,” Obito replies.

 _Yeah_ , Obito thinks. _Me too._

**Author's Note:**

> It's only once I'm halfway into this story that I realize that I haven't read any Soulmate AU stories other than the one written by LipsOfFrost. I stumbled to get the story right so I don't have high hopes that it turned out okay at the end, which is the reason why it's so long. Whatever, it's good for someone's first try at a Soulmate AU that I didn't bother to look up the rules of until I'm nearly finished with it, right?
> 
> This is dedicated to xxikurumixx. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://redskiez.net/) (redskiez.net) if you have a request. I'm always accepting prompts and the only regulation I have is that I only write for T/ObiDei.
> 
> If you enjoyed this (or didn't), please leave a comment telling me why and which parts! Please comment or else I won't know that there are people out there that enjoy my writing.


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